31st January: Relaxing in McLeod Ganj

Another freezing cold morning, another grudging exit from the blankets, another hot banana and honey porridge at Green. This time our only monkey sighting was a far cuter creature, curled up on a water tank in the sun, showing us his teeth not in a snarl but in a full yawn.

Leave me in peace

It was almost 11 am by the time that we set off up the hill towards Dal Lake, several kilometres up the mountain from McLeod Ganj. The sky was rather overcast but the view across the valley was nevertheless magnificent. We puffed our way up the road and arrived after an hour or so at the lake. Dal Lake is a holy place for Hindus, surrounded by sacred Himalayan cedars. We walked a little further up towards Naddi, past a small shrine, before heading back down to the lake to find the Tibetan Children's Village (TCV) school. We'd been told that visitors were welcome to look around, but when we arrived we saw a sign saying "no visitors without prior permission". Even if we'd thought to ask, our only reason for looking was curiosity. It is probably better that the children not be disturbed, but it was slightly disappointing to leave without having a peek.

Cloud in the valley

Dal Lake and its Himalayan cedars

Lonely swan

Small shrine near the lake

Forest, mountains, and cloud

Back in McLeod Ganj, we made our way over to Peace restaurant for a delicious Tibetan lunch of momos and thentuk. By then it was 3 pm, and time for our conversation class. We were taking over from the American volunteer who had taught the class the previous day, so couldn't offer Sangye's daughters (the younger girl had come along too this time) our undivided attention. Clem took four girls, while I sat down with two Buddhist monks and an eleven-year-old Tibetan boy. The two monks were visiting McLeod from their monasteries in Spiti and Dehra Dun respectively, and were staying in the monastery just beside the school. The boy was home with his family for the winter holiday from his boarding school, a branch of the TCV school, located around an hour's drive from McLeod. I spent the hour-long class just chatting with them rather than doing any formal teaching, and I think I learned more from them about Tibetan culture and Buddhism than they learned English from me, but never mind. The boy had just joined the football team at school, so I did run through the different positions on the board. He decided he fancied playing in central midfield. Clem was more disciplined: she had her four girls doing an exercise on irregular plurals.

After class we bade farewell to our students and strolled back through the village to the central square. From there we turned down a narrow alley that clung to the side of the mountain, before turning right down steep steps towards the Tse Chok Ling Monastery. Again, however, we found that visitors required permission; again, our only excuse was curiosity; and again, it was on reflection better to leave the monks in peace. At least we were able to see the beautiful building, perched on the side of the valley. We had a quiet evening and an early night (after I'd been forced to shave); in that kind of cold there had to be an awfully good reason not to jump under the covers!